With thundering wheels the golden war-wains run As wild fire leaps upon the gabled place, And shining warriors cry the White Christ's grace Against the harm the heathen gods have done; Hate's burning trumpets shriek the triumph won, The bastions flame, and with uplifted mace On rides the leader of the raven race, Swart, giant-thewed, the Aesir's shaggy son. But Aidan prays within his lowly cell, And paler than the moon upon a mere A winding wood-smoke folds the rock from sight; And while they hunt the vanished citadel Through many a misted mile, the wolf-men hear Far ringing harps on Bamborough's starry height. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEGY ON THYRZA by GEORGE GORDON BYRON ST. MARTIN'S WALL by ANTON ALEXANDER VON AUERSPERG FIRMILIAN; A TRAGEDY by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN BRUCE: HOW KING ROBERT WAS HUNTED BY THE SLEUTH-HOUND by JOHN BARBOUR CASA GUIDI WINDOWS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE POTTERY MAKER by CAREY YATES BUSBY |